Sneering at the leering lady
as she stares and squirms
At Wanda with her saintly smile
and living wig of worms
I like to watch their faces fall
as we disgust and shame them
Seeking suckers is my game
-- no longer lion taming.
Like a pink and pregnant pumpkin
perched upon her neck
Wanda Wadkins head was hurting
it was bitten by insects
I watched the awkward way she waddled
walking to the pail
She always used to wash her worms
and clean beneath her nails.
I love the should I see inside her
but I just can't love her
Folding fat that rolls around
like bowling balls in butter...
Wanda Wanda Wanda...
Watch me watch me watch me
Won't you watch me for a while
Watch me pick my worms up
And put them in a pile
Watch me sit upon it with
My Mona Lisa smile.
Why Wanda why, do I always watch you cry?